


redundancy of the broken minds

by CHAOSMAXINE



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I'm sorry?, PTSD, Post-Bae, maxine is a drunken mess, mentions of amberprice / rachel amber, pricefield, punch me pls, sad angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CHAOSMAXINE/pseuds/CHAOSMAXINE
Summary: undeserving of happiness might be strong words, but maybe not if you're max caulfield, when both your hands are now stained with the blood of hundred deaths you were responsible for, all this because you're another naive kid who just wants to be loved.orin which silence heals.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	redundancy of the broken minds

**Author's Note:**

> hello, it's my first lis piece of content here, and i'm so excited! this story was first intended to be a full length fic, but i wasn't inspired for the rest so here i am!
> 
> also, please pardon my english. it's terrible, i'm aware, i'm baguette.

i feel like the universe is splitting in two; those who believe that you are completely in control of your actions, and these actions cause consequences that trigger others, and those who believe that life is only a series of predestined events and which are subject to fate: sometimes happy, other times sad.

_does that make sense? am i really allowed to question anything anymore, anyway?_

everything that just happened this week; i've stopped being naive and gave up on trying to find explanations. they run away from me. maybe i was constantly looking for them in order to calm the incessant tornado in my mind. my stomach squirms, my saliva thickens. i breathe out.

_after all that happened, you're alive, max. isn't that the only thing that matters, in the end?_

_so, am i the hero, or the victim of my own story?_

as stupid as it sounds, i believe in reincarnation. but nothing to do with the popular culture. i believe that certain periods of our life are associated with one of the lives we have. it depends on each person. a person with a monotonous, homogeneous routine will have only one life, two at most. because we cannot distinguish the difference between several lives.

but someone living, for example, a trauma, will have their life before. and the one after the event that turned everything upside down.

well, after that particular day, i felt like i was finally living my second life. i was establishing a cross on my past. i was reaching something new, certainly, but that was destabilizing, even terrorizing. my conscience was now stained with the repercussions of my choices.

that day, i was reborn, but above all, i was finally free. so why did i still feel trapped in my head?

the storm may have been the vessel of my psychological reincarnation, but it's reduced by the redundancy of my broken mind.

* * *

— **max, you have to talk to me. come on. we're in this together, remember?**

 _of course, i do, we're max and chloe. it has always been us against the world._ but that voice felt somehow unfamiliar. like all those memories we've had together were now meaningless.

we were young, perhaps even impulsive and ignorant of the reality around us. but it was ours. it was our safe place. we didn't have to worry about the future, yet ours was very well planned. we wanted to go to college together. i promised chloe that i would follow her no matter where she went. and she promised me the same. we had saddled this pledge during a hot night of july. we looked at the ceiling, hoping that the universe we imagined belonged to us. i felt her near me, i heard her slow breathing. we stayed there, saying nothing for a while. it was six years ago.

it was also when i started to read my first romantic novels. i knew my mother was reading those cliché, suburban stories. i saw on the cover this man and this woman embracing, looking at each other in the eyes. i took advantage of my parents being out of sight to take one of these heavy chairs from the dining room and brought it to the library so that i could reach with my frail little arms this book with a vibrant red binding.

as the words and phrases lined up in my head, it became a fantasy that i cultivated in my secret garden. **_the theory of soulmates_** , it was called. two people connect and fall in love.

 _falling_ , it sounds absurd, doesn't it? why would anyone want to experience this terrifying fall? should we be afraid of love?

come to think of it, i was too young to ask myself these kinds of questions. too young to think that the future was terrible, or too big for me. and that's something that has labeled me for too long; the fear of fearlessness. and if it weren't for that inevitable ability to control temporality, i'd still be max caulfield, awkward photography enthusiast, but i also wouldn't hear that voice next to me, telling me that everything is going be okay, when the girl is just as fragile and uncertain as me.

and then we found ourselves in bed, staring at the white ceiling. i was smiling inwardly. i remembered this chapter in this book. the man and the woman were laying on the bed, like us. they didn't dare to look at each other in the eyes, did not dare to speak. _perhaps they didn't know what to say?_ i thought.

but i had things to say; lots of things to say to my best friend. i wanted to talk about our plans. it made me happy. we were going to share a room in the dormitory of our dream college. we were going to decorate it based on the ideas of magazines that we had preciously cut and glued into an album called _'maximus et chloe, somewhere in 2013'_. she was almost two years older than me, but she promised me that she would be waiting for me. as if the time she spent without me suddenly stopped. and i wished the same happened to me, too. i wished i waited for her, even if our all of those nights spent, pretending that our wildest dreams were becoming true, were going to change into phone calls, from one state to another, but i left her when she needed me the most.

but i wasscared. i already thought our friendship would deteriorate no matter what we did. so i decided to ignore her instead. i thought it was a better way to keep the friendship we had intact. to remember the memories, without there being new bitter moments that prove that we are moving on from one another. however, in the early days, there wasn't a day when i didn't think of her. but it hurt too much. so i tried to forget her. and i wanted the same for her.

i looked out the window, noticing the pine trees parading before my eyes. i tilted my gaze to the ground, my forehead pressed against the warm window. we were escaping from chaos. both figuratively and literally. **together**.

i had wondered if it would hurt if i jumped. who would care in the end? because i didn't. maybe i'll be the next alaska young. dying in a road accident, and then being looked for by her friends. i wouldn't expect having a _pudge_ in my life, though.

**_i loved her so much. how can she be dead? what kind of world does this?_ **

this phrase echoed in my head. that trembling voice. i wanted to believe that rachel just left on a whim. her free soul, traveling the great north american roads, the sun plating on her long golden hair.

i mean... she did leave on a whim. just not the way i imagined this past week.

and then, chloe would have followed her. nothing kept her in oregon, anyway. nothing kept her anywhere. maybe if they left, nathan wouldn't had killed her in the bathroom. i wouldn't had triggered my powers. the storm wouldn't had happened.

every life decisions influence others. it's scary when you really get to see it. and even scarier when you realize that ultimately, **your choices don't matter.**

i glanced furtively at the steering wheel. her hands held the latter firmly, her knuckles whitened. her bracelets moved according to the movements of the thundering road in which we had taken.

i heard a dull voice from the radio. i slid my index finger and my thumb on the volume wheel.

— **the emergency alert system broadcast has issued a severe thunderstorm warning at 5:02 pm, pacific standard time, in the area of arcadia bay, oregon...**

— **we don't have to listen to it.**

chloe's hand was approaching the radio but i instinctively put my hand on her arm. the contact returned a sharp sensation under the epidermis of my hand, as i gently pushed chloe to focus on the radio.

 **—** **... you can now safely exist shelters and basements. tune in for further instructions.**

my shoulders gradually relaxed as i slowly fell back against the backrest.

— **see. it was just an _e-a-s_. **chloe mouthed every letters. **it's nothing.**

i felt a hollow in my chest. the pain was physical, as if part of my soul have stayed in arcadia bay. i turned my wrists and looked inside my hands. they were stained with mud and blood. instinctively, i ran my hand under my nose. i looked at my middle finger, but i didn't see any dark red liquid. i didn't have any nosebleeds since we left. _does that mean i made the right decision?_

_of course not, you killed people. you may not see it, but their blood, not yours, is on your hands. and there's no way back now. you destroyed that photo, remember?_

i pulled my knees to my chest and i hugged them, fixating on anything else but the road, the road that reminded me that we were just two cowards running away from our problems.

the road was endless. i didn't even dare asking chloe where we were going, it didn't matter to me. she was only the scapegoat of this storm. and for any bullshit reason, she and i were connected, somehow, with my powers. and now she was there, still by my side, despite the fact that her whole family had perished a few hours earlier.

 **— i'm sorry.** i whispered, the sound of my weak voice echoed in the truck.

i felt her gaze now focused on me, while alternating with the road. i wanted to sink deeper into my seat.

— **it's gonna be...**

she didn't take the time to finish her sentence. maybe because we both knew it was bullshit. chloe was not one to pretend that everything was fine. at least not with me. i could read her like an open book. it was one of the benefits of growing up with your best friend.

but this time, it was different.

— **i'm here. we're here.** she just said.

but what is here? and who are we?

* * *

i could feel the breeze of cold air when chloe got into the car, now motionless. i heard the sound of a plastic bag as she plunged her hand inside. she placed in my hand what appeared to me to be a packed sandwich. my stomach rumbled at the sight of food, but not because i was hungry, on the contrary, everything seemed to suppress my appetite.

— **there you go, eat.**

i glanced the bread in my hand without unwrapping it. the sound of the plastic wrinkling on itself stopped when she took out hers.

— **i'm not hungry.** i said with a small voice, almost muffled.

— **max...** upon hearing my name from her mouth, with her voice so calm, too calm, my shoulders relaxed. i looked directly into her clear blue eyes. **i don't want to fight with you. eat, you need it. we've got a long ride to seattle.**

my hands clenched at the mention of seattle. i felt my heart throb in my chest.

— **seattle? n-no.** i stuttered. **we can't.**

— **why not?** her voice, now firmer, made me jump. **we're homeless otherwise. what the fuck do you want us to do?**

i was ashamed. i didn't want to face my parents. of course, they didn't know their daughter was a murderer, but somehow, i couldn't have lied to them. but how would they believe their kid had magically developed powers over the course of one week, had no idea how or why and saved her childhood friend from near death multiple times and even killed an entire town for her.

_what does chloe even mean to me? i'm truly selfish to even think about my own feelings now._

— **can we wait, at least a couple of days? it's a lot too much. we could... we could use some of my education funds, since it... doesn't mean shit, anymore. we could rent a room somewhere, who knows. as long as i don't face anyone i know.**

i looked up from the ground to finally look at her. i was simply starving of any human contact. i wanted to touch her, just to prove myself that she was real, and so was i.

but i stayed there, with the sandwich in my hands, in front of her stoic silence. after a few seconds of mental debate about the situation, i assumed, she just nodded, before giving her attention on the food. i slipped one of my strands of hair, which was greasy, behind my right ear before unpacking the bread and trying to fill my stomach, at least, for chloe. i owed her that. the bread was dry, but i had no right to complain. the rest of the meal finished in silence, only the sound of cars stopping at the gas station accompanied us.

as soon as she finished, chloe threw the bag out the window and started the car as we hit the road again.

* * *

after half an hour on the road, chloe broke the silence.

— **as ironic as it sounds, it's really warm in the rest of oregon and the sky is clear.** she said, before taking a bumpy road, heading into the forest. **so i have an idea.**

i could hear the sound of pebbles under the wheels of her car. my head hurt, and i just wanted to stop. but if i stopped, i was left alone with my destructive thoughts. and they were scaring me. i was scared of myself.

we stopped near a hill, but still surrounded by towering trees. she shut off the engine when her car stopped completely, plunging us into complete silence, once again. these silences were getting heavier and heavier, but i didn't have the strength to remedy them. i heard her breathing in unison with mine, as she looked straight ahead. she plunged her hand into her jeans pocket, to pull out a pack of cigarettes. with her index finger, she pushed the container and looked inside. she didn't react and dropped her package in the back of the car, indicating that they were probably ruined, drenched by the storm earlier. i didn't like it when she was upset, but i was waiting for her to get angry, to let out a swear, even, but nothing came out of her mouth. it was _not_ chloe.

but at the same time, what did i really know about her? i was the one decided to cut contact with her. i couldn't pretend that i knew everything about her in less than a week, when we had been deprived of contact for five long years. but more importantly, i didn't want her to feel compelled to stay by my side, just because i saved her. she deserved better, and i knew it.

— **i used to come here sometimes with my father. he loved camping and i hated it.** she said with a small chuckle. **but i enjoyed being with him, away from home, somehow. we were talking about stuff till we saw the sunrise, heads poking out of the tent, watching the fire we made like it was the biggest accomplishment ever.** she nodded, i looked at her, not wanting to interrupt her. i knew that talking about her father was good for her, like a little personal therapy. there was something comforting in this tragedy.

— **so, that's what we're going to do, you and me. i'm going to go find some branches around, but i'm also going to take a walk in the forest for a moment because i need to think about... things.**

we looked at each other, and my heart compressed in my chest. i knew that i was responsible for her pain, for this sharp wound which will probably never heal.

— **... but when i get back, we're going to make a fire. while i'm gone, there are blankets behind the seat. you just have to lift it. you could place them in the truck bed.**

the bright headlights of her car remained open even though the engine was no longer running. as she got out of the car, saying nothing, using her phone's flashlight to light up, she ventured into the dark forest. for the first time in my life, i didn't want to be alone.

for the first time in my life, i felt what it was like to depend on someone and lose them.

i smashed my fist on the dash, already feeling the pain going from the tip of my fingers to my elbow. i brought my hand against my chest, applying some pressure.

_yeah, i deserved it._

i stood there for a few minutes, my mind wandering around, having these intrusive thoughts.

i finally ran my hands over the seat to lower it and pulled on what i thought were the covers. when i finished pulling the covers towards me and put them on the seat, i heard a glass noise. i froze for a moment, before slipping my hand inside to reach the object that i couldn't see because it was too dark inside. my fingers grabbed something cold, which i pulled out.

— **a bottle of tequila half full?** i wondered to myself.

i put my thumb on the sticker around the bottle, and i decided to remove the cap in order to smell what was inside. my face tightened and i moved my nose away from the smell. after a few seconds, i brought the bottle to my mouth, feeling the liquid burning my throat. i wasn't fond of alcohol, but my friends in seattle drank often, so i was joining them. i took another sip and then slid my finger over the top of the bottle, making circular movements. i finally put the bottle down after several more sips, and then got out of the car, pulling on the covers and spreading them in the truck bed. i climbed up to place them well and i stayed there, a moment, hearing crickets around. i wanted to look afar, towards the path we had taken, but it was too dark. i was alone, waltzing with _silence_.

* * *

— **well, i think i've had enough. the fucking mosquitoes are biting me. no but seriously, mosquitoes in mid-october? fuck off.**

i heard that familiar voice in the distance and i automatically turned towards the source of the noise. i saw her carrying something that seemed heavy, due to the curvature of her back. she walked past the headlights of her car and i saw the pile of wooden bios that she was carrying. when i turned my head, i felt somewhat dizzy, but quite euphoric.

— **i thought i lost you in the woods. aren't there bears around here?**

she turned to look at me from afar. she frowned.

— **oh wow, that one can finally speak!** she smiled weakly. **besides, i'm a strong punk, i can fight these bad bitches with my bare hands.** she laughed, and i felt my heart pounding in my chest, but in a good way.

i haven't heard her laugh in days, so it felt good to hear that again. but somehow i knew she was just trying to put her mind into something else. because she obviously didn't want to talk about what had just happened, and neither did i.

i decided to join her around the fire. i got out of the back of the truck. i felt tipsy, but i managed to join her. she placed the branches at an angle to create the perfect fire pit.

— **it needs the right amount of branches. if you put too many, the flame will suffocate.** she turned around the pit, putting them one by one. **you want the flame to survive, do you? you don't want it to die, because you'll have to revive it again, over and over.**

the last sentence made me freeze. she was obviously trying to tell me something. something i didn't want to hear. i crossed my arms against my chest and looked down, poking the rocky pathway with my right foot. i didn't want to look at her, but then i started feeling something warm on my skin. i looked up and saw the very first flames. it felt comfortable. it felt like home. but there was no home anymore.

i decided to sit on the ground, not caring about ruining my already dirty clothes.

chloe was standing up still, on the other side of the fire pit.

— **hold on, i'll try to see if i have some paper in the truck.**

i followed her with my eyes as she reached the door of the truck. i rubbed my hands on my legs, trying to keep me awake, and sober.

— **care to explain?** i heard, a couple of feet away from me. i turned around and looked at her in the dark of the night. i saw the empty bottle she was holding.

_shit._

i remained silent, guilty. i didn't want to get into an argument.

— **that's MY stash! you can't just do that.** she paused. **you drank the whole shit too. you don't _even_ drink. **she said on an almost harsh tone.

— **trust me, if it was rachel, you wouldn't even mind.** i said, whispering to myself.

— **what did you just say?** she said, walking towards me, she had a quite threatening aura at that very moment.

_shit, shit._

still feeling the strong taste of alcool in my mouth, i decided to clap back.

— **i said if it was rachel, you wouldn't even mind!** i said, a little more convincingly.

it was like a bomb exploded between us.

— **what does rachel have anything to do with it?**

i stood up, and i was about to go near the truck to get some sleep, or at least, to just get away from her, but chloe stood in front of me.

— **look, nevermind.** i shook my hands in the air. **i'm sorry, i'll buy you a whole other bottle-**

— **no, i want to know.** she said harsly. **i want to know what's going on.**

— **it's nothing, i'm just tired.**

— **no, you're deviating.** she crossed her arms against her chest. i felt stuck, i needed some air, but i couldn't. **why did you mention rachel? you know how much i care about her, you can't just fuck around mentioning her like that.**

— **that's the point, you _care_ about her!**

— **what does that even mean? i care about you too. what's your deal? you're my best friend.**

— **exactly!** i started talking louder and louder. **i was the stupid fucking best friend who came back in your life as a rebound when you needed someone again. rachel couldn't love you back the way you did, then she left you, and you had nobody. i was the stupid fucking best friend who saved you over and over, yet you kept mentioning how great and fantastic rachel was. but i couldn't have complained about it, because that would've been hypocritical of me, leaving you for years and not even trying to stay in touch. and now, what? i'm the fucked up who killed an entire town because i was the stupid enough to fall in love with my best friend.** these last words were almost yelled, feeling a lump in my throat. i couldn't backtrack. i couldn't.

i instinctively started to put my right hand in the air. i couldn't think straight. i just wanted to go back and forget about it. it didn't matter, and i was selfish to even think about it when hundred of people died. they died, because of me. and yet i was worried about how my best friend considered me.

— **what are you doi-**

she stopped in the middle of the sentence. she grabbed my arm a little too firmly and then softened her grip after looking at my expression.

— **so you were jealous. of rachel.** she tried to seek for my gaze, but i tried to brush it off.

— **chloe, i just want to go to sleep please just let go of me.** i shook my head, trying to push her away but she wouldn't let me. tears started falling down my face and i sniffed.

— **why did you try to rewind? after everything that fucking happened.**

— **i'm sorry, i don't know. it's just... too much is happening.** i was able to get away from her, and i gently rubbed my wrist.

— **max...**

— **i know, it's dumb, right? i was lunatic enough to ever think you could like me back the same way.**

— **why me? i'm so fucked up.**

— **i don't know.** i said with a small voice. **but i love you. and it drives me crazy. and i know it's selfish to believe i deserve something like that after what happened; that i deserve to be happy.**

it felt like i missed a heartbeat. _max, shut up. you need to go away. do something._ before she even had the time to process everything that just happened, i concluded my monologue.

— **i need to go for a walk.**

— **max, you're clearly not stable right now, there's no way i'm letting you going for a walk in the middle of the night, plus, you're drunk.**

but i walked past her anyway, almost jogging away so she couldn't try to stop me again.

**— stop running away from your fucking problems!**

she was quick enough to stop me, again. she vigorously grabbed my face with her cold hands, wiping up the tears with her thumbs. it calmed me down instantly. we stayed there, still, as i was thinking about either running away and never coming back, or staying with her, the one who always made me safe and always understood me.

— **i don't want to see anyone right now.** i said, feeling my lower lip shaking.

— **me neither.** she put her forehead against mine, still having her hands cupping my cheeks.

her face was so close to mine. i didn't know what to say.

maybe i finally understood what they meant in **_the theory of soulmates_** , after all. it's not like these two people had nothing to tell to each other. it's because silence was more powerful than actions; it told more than words.

and that's we needed; the silence after the chaos.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twt: @chaosmaxine
> 
> thanks for reading!


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